


Party Police

by ItsaVikingThing



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: A Dana who may be overly invested in Max's love life, A light seasoning of angst, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Because teens crushing at a party, Confused Max, Drunk Victoria, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Sorry about the false advertising, Though there isn't much party come to think of it, chasepricefield
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2018-12-29 21:08:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12093471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsaVikingThing/pseuds/ItsaVikingThing
Summary: Max has only been back in Arcadia Bay a couple of months, and things are still a bit awkward between her and Chloe.They're supposed to be hanging out at a party together.But Chloe is late, because she's struggling with her feelings for Max, and trying to avoid her.Which leaves Max being awkward, and trying to avoid Victoria Chase, while she figures out how to deal with Chloe.And Victoria is drunk, and about to tell Max how shereallyfeels about her...and a collision with Chloe is going to be unavoidable.Which is where it all starts to get complicated...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a quick, silly thing because I have a PSA to make, but it got out of hand. I hope you like it.
> 
> See you in the notes below!
> 
> (Title is from the song by Alvvays!)

Max has been at a party for nearly twenty minutes and hasn't panicked yet.

It's a personal best.

She's the most recent arrival at a house party being hosted by Dana Ward, even though Max is fairly sure that this is not Dana's house.

Max is, perhaps inevitably, in the kitchen. She's holding a bottle of beer -- correctly, she hopes -- and enjoying a quiet conversation.

Courtney Wagner, a brunette malevolence who blights Max's days in school on a part-time basis, says, "I just worry sometimes that no one sees the _real_ me, y'know?"

Max nods sympathetically. She can relate.

Courtney is swaying a little. She's been at the party longer than Max has, and apparently has done some damage to a bottle of vodka. "There's more to me than just being Blackwell Academy's leading fashionista..."

Max makes a slightly less sympathetic face.

Juliet Watson, who represents the entire staff of the school paper, says, "Right? There's so much pressure to present the perfect public face. It's such bullcrap."

Max agrees. Not out loud, though. She isn't _taking part_ in the conversation. She's standing in the corner, to one side of the fridge, apparently unnoticed.

Courtney sighs, "I'm glad it's not just me...sometimes it's all too _exhausting_ , y'know?"

"Yeah. It must be tough on you, especially when you're trying to keep up with Victoria..." Juliet says, in what she must imagine is an innocent tone.

Juliet isn't _bad_ , but she's a full-time gossip with delusions of journalism. And clearly she's setting Courtney up to get dirt on Blackwell Academy's elite students.

Max should maybe intervene.

Courtney sighs. "This is what I'm talking about! Victoria's such a sweet person. Like, she had Taylor and I over for pre-party cocktails!"

"Aw, that is sweet," Juliet lies. "Though I think maybe she had a few more than you..."

Max puts down her beer. She psychs herself up for interrupting.

"Oh, Victoria's fine!" Courtney leans in towards Juliet, swaying a little. "Hey, did you know she gets _super_ cuddly when she's high? It's so cute!"

Max blinks. She settles back against the counter. After all, maybe she shouldn't be rude and butt into someone else's conversation about Victoria Chase being cute and _cuddly_?

Victoria Chase is Courtney's friend and infernal overlord. She and Max got off to a bad start when Max insulted Victoria by showing up at the same school as her this year. Their relationship has only gone downhill since.

Maybe it's because they both want to be photographers? Max doesn't think of them as rivals, though. They have different styles, and different attitudes. Besides, Max is a shy, tomboyish nerd with no social skills and Victoria is a beautiful, stylish socialite with a razor-edged tongue. 

But there is an overlap in their interests, and Max wonders if that's why Victoria's been so keen to put her down at every turn.

Or, following the Chloe Price school of thought, maybe it's because Victoria is a bit like a t-rex with a money fixation. She can only see people as people when they're wearing outfits that run to a minimum four figure price tag. Everything else around her only registers as something to be stomped on or eaten.

Or both.

Cuddly Victoria is simultaneously a terrifying and weirdly...intriguing prospect.

Max only realises quite how much she's zoned following that line of thought when someone opens the fridge door and her nose gets slightly squished.

"Hey!" Max protests, weakly.

Justin Walker, who isn't hosting the party even though Max thinks this is actually his house, peers round the fridge door and says, "Hey back atcha! Just chillin'? Cooool! Later!"

He tugs a few bottles of beer from the fridge, collects a kilo of Doritos from a cupboard, and wanders off.

He's too high for Max to maintain any outrage over any of it. 

Max suddenly becomes aware of an intense silence. She looks round to find Courtney and Juliet glaring at her.

Courtney snaps, "Oh my God! Eavesdrop much, Maxine?"

"Uh...hey, Courtney. It's Max, actually. Um...I was here when-"

Juliet shakes her head. "Max. This was a private conversation. You better not repeat anything you've heard."

Juliet, who is standing just outside Courtney's field of vision, winks ostentatiously at Max.

Max says, "Look, I wasn't eavesdropping. I was here already. I said hello when you came in?"

Courtney scoffs. "Whatever. Just get out of here, Max. I can't believe you!"

"Yeah, uncool Max!" Juliet mouths an apology to Max, before grabbing her arm and hustling her out of the kitchen.

She pauses long enough to whisper, "Chasing a story, Max. Sorry!"

Max says, "That's kinda unscrupulous, don't you think? She's drunk!"

Juliet groans. "I...shit. Fine! I'll treat the whole incident as off the record, okay?"

Max opens her mouth to argue further.

"Enjoy the party, Max!" Juliet closes the door in her face.

Max sighs. She checks her phone.

Still no sign of Chloe.

Max shivers. It's cold. Maybe because Juliet has shoved her into the backyard, instead of the hall.

Max slumps.

It's November, and chilly, so no one else is outside. Which is a relief, if anything.

Max could leave the yard by the back gate, and walk round to the front of the house, but she decides to hide out for a little bit.

Max only agreed to come to this party because Dana cornered her in the showers one morning and refused to leave Max alone until she agreed to show up. But said agreement was conditional on the attendance of Max's best friend, Chloe.

Who is running insanely late, even by her standards.

Max likes some of the people at the party. Especially Dana, who has been almost merciless in her efforts to befriend Max. Dana...is actually kinda sweet, and Max is grateful for her friendship.

But Dana is also relentless in her matchmaking efforts, and Max is worried that if she runs into Dana without Chloe as backup, Dana will throw Max into a room full of single people and not let her out until Max is a significant other.

And that's stress Max doesn't need in her life.

Not when reconnecting with Chloe is proving stressful enough.

Chloe's amazing, even though she's changed so much, but she's also... _angry_.

Max abandoned her for five of the toughest years of Chloe's life. Max can't blame Chloe for being angry with her. Which means she just has to...not really deal with it. Which sucks, obviously.

Max wishes they were just...united again, already. As friends, of course! Because Max definitely does not have so much as the lukewarms for her once and hopefully future best friend.

Nope.

She wishes Chloe was here. 

She's also kind of glad she's got a bit more time by herself, though.

In a dark part of the yard, a small point of flame glows briefly.

Max is not alone, after all.

Faced with the choice of inside, with Courtney and Victoria, or outside, in the dark with a shadowy stranger, Max makes what she thinks the Chloe decision would be.

She approaches the smoker. "Um. Hello? You hiding out, too?"

"I'm not hiding. An'...who...the _fuck_...actually says, 'um'?"

A girl pushes herself off the fence and staggers into the patch of light spilling out of the kitchen window.

The first thing Max thinks is that the girl is pretty. Then Max realises that she's pretty drunk.

The girl fully enters the light, and Max realises that it's Victoria Chase who is looming over her.

Max gapes in horror, panics, and tries to remember how to run.

Before she can, Victoria clamps her hand on Max's shoulder.

Victoria Chase is _very_ drunk. Her hair is somehow still immaculate, as is her makeup, and she smells like a well-behaved summer meadow.

But her steps are uneven, her eyes are bleary, and her breath is redolent of cigarettes and not long-departed cocktails.

Her grip strength would put a Sumo wrestler's to shame.

"Maxine? Fuckin'...perfect. Jus' what I need...ugh. You're so dumb, Maxine. You're so _dumb_. An'...an'...you're stupid, too."

Max sighs. Her shoulder is pinioned. There's no escape. She just has to weather the storm.

Victoria studies her intently from an approximate distance of much too close. "Like...your...your _face_ ."

"Right. My face is dumb and stupid," Max says, hoping to speed things along.

Max digs her phone out of her pocket, and tries to text as best she can with one hand and a face full of Chase to contend with.

Victoria tosses her cigarette away. She pokes Max in the cheek and snarls, "Bull. Shit."

High Victoria is, reputedly, cuddly. Unfortunately, _drunk_ Victoria is even angrier than sober Victoria.

Max flinches. Victoria sways, almost bringing them both down, so Max listens to one self-preservation instinct while fighting down another and puts a steadying hand on Victoria's side.

Victoria, stabilised, pokes Max's cheek again. "Your fuckin' _freckles_...they were...like _focus-tested_ , weren' they?"

Max squeaks, "What? What does that mean?"

Victoria scoffs. "Puh-lease. Y'can't fool me. Got you all figured out, Max...ine."

Max says, carefully, "Victoria, maybe we should get you inside..."

She stops talking when Victoria starts clumsily stroking her cheek.

Victoria runs her fingers down Max's cheek, to her jaw. She traces Max's jawline. "You're so...your face is _sculpted_. Your face...isn' dumb as the rest of you."

Max had a suspicion, when she first saw Victoria emerge from the shadows, that she would die tonight. This isn't the way she pictured it, but the way her heart is hammering, like it's going to burst, makes her think death is still likely.

Max tries to think of something to say. She says, "Um. Thanks...? Also, could you stop that?"

Victoria pats Max's jaw a few times. "Hey..." Victoria frowns. "Are you feelin' me up, Maxine?"

Max yanks her hand away from Victoria's side. Victoria sways violently, causing them both to stagger. Max quickly grabs Victoria again. She tries to ignore how warm and soft Victoria's body abruptly feels under her hands.

"You're a fuckin' _perv_ , Max," Victoria says, but she doesn't exactly sound angry. She blinks and adds, "Uh, Maxine. Max _ine_."

Max blurts, "I'm not trying to...I'm just trying to make sure you don't fall! There're some chairs over there. Let's get you in a seat. Okay?"

Victoria shakes her head. She makes an effort to enunciate clearly. "I...am...fine. Max. Maxine, fuck."

"I prefer Max, so, um...just, call me that?" Max tries to steer Victoria towards the garden furniture.

Victoria huffs, and lets herself be turned, but she doesn't budge from the spot, and she doesn't let go of Max.

"You think I give a shit? Max _ine_ ?"

"I guess not." Chloe would have punched Victoria by now, Max thinks. Max just tries to gently tug her shoulder free. Victoria grabs Max's other shoulder. 

"Could you just...wait...are you calling me Maxine because you know it annoys me?"

"Noooo, Maxine. I wouldn' dream of annoyin' _you_ , Maxine."

Max is slightly tempted to just shove Victoria off her and run. She wonders how much Victoria will even remember tomorrow, anyway.

But...Victoria is staring at her, and she's making a weird face, a sort of softer version of her habitual scowl.

Max groans. 

Victoria is a jerk, but she's also wasted, and Max can't in good conscience leave her alone.

Assuming Max could even break Victoria's grip in the first place.

Max says, "Victoria. I'm going to sit down over there. Come with me, or let me go."

Victoria peers suspiciously at her. "You're gonna ditch me."

If there was one remark guaranteed to hit Max square in the guilty conscience, that would be it. And not just because Max _was_ thinking about running for it.

But looming larger in Max's mind is the whole matter of the five years of near total silence between her and Chloe. Which Max initiated, after she moved away.

Chloe's letting Max back in, at least. But she also pulls shit like tonight, where she arranges to meet Max, then leaves her waiting for hours. Sometimes she doesn't show up at all.

Max is...not happy about that. She isn't sure how to handle it, though. Any more than she knows what to do with Victoria in her current state.

But...she can generally try to do better.

Max takes a deep breath, and says, "I...I promise I won't ditch you. Just...we're going to fall over, Victoria!"

Victoria considers this. "I won't. _You_ might, though. You're clutzy. Clumsy? You're so clunky, Max. Maxine. Maxiiine."

"Would you please stop calling me that!"

"Fine! Go away, then. Don' like you, anyway." 

Victoria pouts and turns her face away, even though it's obvious she's watching Max out of the corner of her eye.

"Uh, if you really want me to go, you'll need to stop gripping my shoulders like a trainee Vulcan."

"I don't get it, Max." Victoria says, plaintively.

"Yeah, it's a Star Trek thing. Mr Spock used to-"

"I don't get why we aren't _friends_ ," Victoria whines.

Max has little choice but to stare into Victoria's eyes right now. She appears to be sincerely puzzled.

It takes Max a few goes to make her voice work again.

"Victoria," Max says, gently. "You've been unrelentingly mean to me since we first met. You pushed me into a locker yesterday."

Victoria shakes her head. "Noooo. Did I?"

"Yeah. For the third time this week."

"I'm...hazing you? So...you should have figured that out? Get..." Victoria stumbles. "Get your shit together, Max. Ine. C'mon! Let's be buddies. I'll...buy you a new locker, a nicer one!"

Max gapes at Victoria. "The...quality of the locker isn't really the issue here..."

It's while her mouth is hanging open, with Victoria leaning towards her, gripping her shoulders, that the kitchen door opens.

"Oh! Max, I didn't realise you were out here!"

Max looks round. It's Dana! Sweet, saintly Dana come to rescue her!

"Dana! Could you maybe-"

"Fuck off?" Victoria suggests, not entirely pleasantly.

Dana's eyes widen. For a moment, Max thinks that Dana's offended.

Until Dana all but purrs as she says, "Well, I'll...give you two some privacy, then! I'll let everyone else know that the yard is off limits"

She mouths the word, 'Scandal!" to Max, and winks at her.

Dana leaves, taking Max's last hope with her.

Max groans when she remembers that Dana is Juliet's best friend. Soon, everyone at Blackwell is going to know that she and Victoria were being scandalous.

Even if Max isn't sure _how_ this is a scandal, exactly.

Victoria says, "Was that fuckin' Dana? Shit. _Shit_. This is your fault, Max. All your fault. Gonna...shave your head. _Can_ I shave your head, Maxine? Your hair's sooo bad. Can we fix it? Pleeeease?"

She pokes Max in the cheek, and giggles.

Max groans again, and begins trying to wrangle Victoria into a chair.

* * *

Chloe is late.

It's beyond fashionable, and leaving rude, and heading towards people wondering if you are even still alive territory.

This is not...entirely intentional.

Chloe's just been smoking in her room, listening to chill music, and trying to find even a sliver of fucking chill for herself.

Chloe's been so busy stressing about this whole party and hanging out with Max thing that she hasn't noticed quite how much time has slipped away.

Not until her phone buzzes with a new message from Max.

Chloe picks up her phone, sees the time, and mutters, "Fuck! She'll be so...not even mad. Just fucking repressed and shit. As usual."

Maxine Caulfield. The prodigal best friend.

Max is the real reason Chloe's been dragging her heels tonight.

True, it's slightly daunting, the prospect of hanging out with a Blackwell crowd after getting expelled, and the more recent Rachel And Chloe Have A Screaming Argument In Public Over Her Having Sex With A Skeevy Drug Dealer Behind Chloe's Back incident.

Which was followed by the Rachel Moving To Fucking Paris For Nine Fucking Months Before They Could Patch Any Of Their Things Up incident.

Blackwell assholes are the kind of awkward Chloe can handle, though, especially when there's free booze on the table.

But Max...Chloe has no idea what to do about Max.

Max being back in Arcadia Bay, trying to repair their friendship, it's all...too much for Chloe.

Max is trying so hard. And she's not only every bit as kind, funny, dorky, and sweet as Chloe remembers, she's a hella cutie, too. Chloe isn't even sure what way she likes Max these days. Only that's a lie, because Chloe _is_ sure. She just doesn't want to admit quite how immense the PSI of her crush is to anyone. Even herself.

So, of course, Chloe hasn't been making it easy on Max. No, Chloe's been pushing her, if not quite pushing her away. 

And that's dumb, probably, but...how the fuck is Chloe supposed to feel about having Max on tap again after all these years? Chloe can text Max, and she'll answer. She can take Max to the lighthouse, or the Two Whales, and just...have her best friend again.

Max is back, and it's real, and it's _too fucking much_.

Max won't ever get that, though. Chloe can't possibly explain it. Not in any way that would make sense to Max, and wouldn't hurt her.

So Chloe's just...letting her endless capacity for fucking up have free rein.

Maybe she should try to curb that impulse, show up, and try apologising for being a complete brat to Max.

Chloe grinds the heel of her hand into her eye. She isn't going to apologise. Not until Max makes her.

Which is the same as saying never.

But she can at least show up tonight.

Chloe stubs out her cigarette, gets her shit together, and heads out.

It's only when she's outside that she thinks to check what Max's message actually says.

Chloe's brow furrows when she does. "The fuck, Max? What are you even...oh, fuck me."

Max's text reads: _Hekp Chkpr voxtira chsae hss me tbi k jn gijbg to die_

It takes Chloe a minute to decipher Max's panicked message, but once she unscrambles 'chsae', it all falls into place.

Victoria fucking Chase. Entitled bullying _asshole_. 

There's not much Chloe can do about Victoria giving Max endless shit on Blackwell's campus. But there is no fucking way Chloe's going to let it go down anywhere else in the Bay.

Whatever else is, or isn't, going on between them, Chloe is always going to have Max's back.

Chloe texts back: _Rescue inbound_. She climbs into her truck, and roars off to Justin's place.

When she gets there, Chloe just barges in and starts hunting for Max.

She searches Justin's house, anger and worry roiling in her gut, until she runs into Dana. Dana giggles, and sends Chloe outside.

Where Chloe finds Max shivering and hugging herself in Justin's backyard.

For a second, she thinks Max is crying, but no. She's just cold because she's only wearing a t-shirt.

She's sitting on a white plastic chair. She's hugging herself with one arm. She's not wearing her ubiquitous hoodie.

There is a reason for all of these things, and she's drooling on the surface of a white plastic table.

Victoria Chase is sitting across from Max, with her head on the garden table. She's wearing Max's hoodie, holding Max's hand, and snoring blissfully away.

Chloe takes it all in, and snorts. "Only you would actually volunteer the shirt off your back to a bully, Max."

Max looks at Chloe, and her face lights up, and it's too much, even before she says, "Chloe! I'm s-so glad to s-see you! More than normal, I m-mean."

Chloe shrugs off her jacket, and says, "Here, idiot. Maybe try not to freeze to death? For the sake of a mean girl wearing a fucking cashmere sweater?"

"She was c-cold."

And Chloe sort of wants to slap her, but mostly she wants to kiss her. She settles for saying, "Take my jacket. C'mon, you know I've got dragon's blood in my veins."

"Thanks, Chloe."

Max smiles at the memory of the dumb games they used to play, like Chloe hoped she would. She takes the jacket and drapes it over herself awkwardly, never letting go of Victoria's hand.

Something ugly stirs in Chloe. "Max, for fuck's sake, you begged me to rescue you, and now you're-"

"She won't let go of me! She's being really weird, Chloe. But not...bad. Not really. She...said she wants to be friends." Max purses her lips. "She's...kinda-"

"Shitfaced? Yeah, not a shocker. Little Miss Chase has always been a lightweight." Chloe suppresses a shiver. It's getting _cold_. "Max, just leave her. One of her cronies can scrape her up later."

Max ducks her head and squirms. So Chloe knows she's going to _love_ this next part.

"I...was hoping we could give her a ride to Blackwell? I think her friends are...shitfaced, too."

"That's a fair assessment. And an unfair, nay, _fucked up_ request. Max, you can't seriously expect me to give Victoria fucking Chase a ride. I hate her. I hate how she treats _you_. I hate this whole conversation, Max!"

Max sighs. "Sorry, Chloe. I..." She shoots Chloe a nervous look. "I promised I'd look after her, though. So...I'm going to take her back. I can get a cab, or something."

Which plunges them headlong into the territory they usually avoid. Well, Chloe usually avoids it.

This is a five years gone thing.

Max has promised Chloe she'll be keeping all of her promises from now on. She's trying to prove she's a better person now, or that she's sorry, or that she won't leave Chloe again, or some shit like that.

Chloe doesn't want Max to constantly offer her acts of contrition, though. But she hasn't figured out how to admit what she _does_ want, and Max keeps uselessly trying to fill the chasm she thinks is between them. She's bleeding herself white, and it's for no good reason, and Chloe hates it, and maybe loves her, and it's too fucking much.

And right now, Max will feel like she's betraying Chloe if she doesn't look after Victoria, because she made a promise. Max almost certainly feels like she's betraying Chloe for helping Victoria, too, based on the nervous squirming she's doing.

Or maybe Max _always_ feels guilty, because Chloe is always taking Max on guilt trips.

Chloe sighs. "Fuck, Max! Fine, she can hitch a ride. But if she pukes, you're cleaning it up!"

Max smiles, and Chloe isn't sure she deserves it, but she still wishes she saw that smile more often.

"Thanks, Chlo. Um...I guess we should tell people we're taking Victoria home?"

Chloe folds her arms. "Yeah. You go do that, then. I'll keep watch over Sleeping Bully."

"Oh...uh..." Max darts a glance at Victoria.

Chloe rolls her eyes. "Maaaax." 

Chloe strides over to the table, grasps Max's chilly little hand, and pries it loose from Victoria's.

She finds herself holding Max's hand, and every bit as reluctant as Victoria was to let go.

Max looks up at her with those fucking baby blues, and there's something tender Chloe can't afford to trust in her face.

"Um, I should go inside?"

"Your hand's cold. Heat up a bit, first."

Which makes no fucking sense, given it's cold here and warm in the house. It's one of the dumber things Chloe's ever said.

But Max blushes, and squeezes her hand. Chloe's heart kicks things up a notch.

"Oh...okay." She huddles under Chloe's jacket, and smiles at Chloe.

Chloe smiles back. "I...I suck at saying it, but I'm glad you're back, Max. Seriously. I'll try to be...you know."

Max sighs. "Am I back yet, Chloe? I don't...feel like I am."

Chloe opens her mouth, and nothing comes out.

Max smiles, sadly. "I'll go find Courtney. Uh...actually, maybe Dana, instead."

She squeezes Chloe's hand one last time before she pulls away. She doesn't offer Chloe her jacket back, and that gives Chloe hope.

And an odd little thrill when Max puts it on.

Chloe watches Max go into the kitchen. She gives it another minute, to be safe, before she searches for and steals Victoria's cigarettes.

* * *

Victoria wakes up abruptly, and in pain. "What the fuck?"

Her right earlobe hurts, like someone just pinched it really hard.

An unsympathetic, voice says, "Oops."

There's a girl with blue hair watching Victoria. She's sitting where Max was sitting when Victoria fell asleep, smoking a cigarette.

Victoria is drunk. Definitely not at her best. Maybe that's why she admits to herself that the girl with blue hair is _hot_.

Maybe it's why she blurts the first thing that occurs to her when she fully takes in her surroundings. "Max...ditched me. We were holding hands..."

She feels betrayed, by her own drunk mouth, and by Max.

The strange girl says, "Oh, fuck me. I thought _I_ had it bad."

The thing is, that's not a stranger's voice...

Victoria squints, and hunts through her memory. "...Kari?"

"Close, but neither of us gives a fuck, huh?"

"I...why are you here?"

"I'm your ride. I'm taking you back to Blackwell."

"Are you kidnapping me?"

"I'm chauffeuring you, idiot. Because Max asked me. She's got a knack for getting me to agree to things I don't like. Like drinking green tea, eating vegetables, and not kicking your ass."

Victoria scoffs, because there's no one crazy enough to actually mess with her.

Except...wait...no, it can't be...

" _Chloe_? Chloe fucking Price?"

"Ding!"

Victoria straightens up in her seat and tries to appear less drunk. Victoria's mouth says, "You dyed your hair. It's...actually less horrible this way."

Chloe laughs. "Why thank you, your Chaseness."

It's gorgeous, in fact, and something Victoria could never pull off, and when did Chloe Price get this attractive, and why did Victoria drink so much tonight?

Oh, right, because she knew Max would be here.

Victoria groans. She wipes some saliva off her chin and tries to fix her hair.

Chloe laughs again. "Don't worry, you're still annoyingly pretty."

Victoria huffs, and tries not to squirm in her seat. "I don't need your...approval. Or whatever the fuck. Ugh. Fuck...I feel sick..."

"Go ahead and pick any bush you like! I'll probably wait."

Victoria shakes her head. The nausea passes after a minute. "I'm...going back to the party."

She pushes herself up from the table, wobbles, and sits again. "In a minute...going back in a minute..."

Chloe sighs. "Look...Max is letting people know you're going home. She'll be back soon, and then we're going to Blackwell. You wanna ride? Fine. You don't? Even better!"

Victoria tries to think. She has a horrible feeling she's said too much tonight. She's made herself vulnerable. To Max, and to Chloe. She should go inside. Do damage control. She should...

"Max didn't ditch me?"

Victoria should never, ever drink again.

"No, she didn't ditch _you_ ," Chloe says, bitterly. She grunts, and stubs out her cigarette on the tabletop. "I guess she reallly didn't ditch either of us."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Chloe leans across the table, and starts to say something.

Victora cuts her off. "Oh, noooo! Turns out...I don't care."

She's ready for Chloe's anger. But what she gets is Chloe's pity.

Chloe says, "Stop picking on Max, dumbass. You're a photography nerd, like her. Maybe _helping_ her would be a better way of getting her attention?"

"I'm not...don't _want_ her attention," Victoria lies, stubbornly.

Chloe's eyes harden. "But you _are_ going to stop picking on her, aren't you?"

Victoria studies Chloe's expression. She nods, carefully.

Chloe leans back and lights up another cigarette.

"Can I have one?"

To Victoria's surprise, Chloe passes her the fresh lit one, and sparks up another. She wants to protest; the filter, having come into contact with Chloe's lips, has a certain ick factor, after all.

But she craves nicotine too much. Victoria puts the cigarette to her lips. She inhales her brand of smoke, which is a pleasant surprise, and a faint trace of peach lip gloss. 

Which...is not an _unpleasant_ surprise.

Victoria smokes, and stews, and slowly sobers up. A little.

Chloe mutters, "Come on, Max."

Victoria frowns, and asks, "How are _you_ fucking it up, then?"

"What?" Chloe sounds startled.

"Max. Who you've got it sooo bad for."

Chloe glares at her, but Victoria's done being intimidated for one night. "You fucking said it, Chloe! Not my fault I was listening."

Chloe shrugs. Her shoulders are bare, Victoria realises. She must be freezing. 

Which is something, at least.

"C'mooon, you owe me!"

"How the fuck do you figure that?"

Victoria grins. "These are my cigarettes, you thieving bitch."

Chloe laughs. "Fair enough. You're not getting them back, though."

"Keep 'em. But spill."

"Victoria...fuck it, you're not going to remember, anyway. Max and I used to be best friends. Until her family moved, and she stopped talking to me for five years. And now she's back, and..."

"You want to kiss her, and drag her to bed, and...and improve her wardrobe?"

"That's...oddly specific, Victoria. And scarily accurate. But...fuck, I have to make everthing harder than it needs to be. I forgive her, y'know? I just...don't trust her. Not yet. But that's because...I haven't really given her a chance." 

Chloe looks away, out into the night. "I'm scared," she mutters.

"That's because you're dumb," Victoria points out, sagely.

"True dat, Vicky." Chloe laughs. "Not in any way helpful, but true."

Victoria bristles. "Do I look fucking helpful to you?"

It's mostly reflex, and doesn't make sense, but Chloe doesn't seem put out. 

She snorts, smiles, and says, "Christ! Please don't make me start to actually slightly _like_ you, asshole!"

Victoria tries to say something mean, but laughter spills out of her mouth instead.

Chloe grins at her, and it's weird, but not a bad weird, so Victoria decides to just go with it.

"Gimme another cig. This one's...uh, running out."

"Get your own, Vicky."

"Fuck you, Kari!"

"Only if I was as drunk as you are!" Chloe considers her for a second. "Well, maybe I'd just need to be _slightly_ drunk."

Victoria chokes on a lungful of smoke and hopes Chloe will put down how red she is to not being able to breathe.

Chloe gives her a weird look. "You okay...?"

"Uh, hey guys..."

Because _of course_ she'd reappear right now. The tiny, frizzy-haired, hipster trash with the impossibly blue eyes and the voice that sounds like how it would feel to have cookie dough poured directly into the pleasure centres of Victoria's brain.

Victoria wishes no one was paying attention to her as she coughs and sputters while frantically trying not to think any carnal thoughts about anyone in her general vicinty.

When she's recovered enough, Victoria looks up again.

Max is wearing a leather jacket, slightly too big for her, and it's fucking _adorable_ , and really confusing because wasn't she wearing a cheap, ugly hoodie earlier?

Chloe says, "Hey, Max. And, uh...welcome back. Home, I mean. I should've said that much sooner."

She says that last part softly, and it makes no real sense to Victoria, but Max practically melts where she stands. She grins her biggest, goofiest grin.

Victoria hates how beautiful Max is, almost as much as she hates that no one's paying attention to her.

"Thought you weren't coming back, Maxine. Uh, Max. Sorry."

And now they're both staring at her, incredulous.

"What?" Victoria asks, defensively.

"Did you just apologise?"

"Did you just call me Max?"

Victoria huffs, and struggles out of her seat, and snaps, "Are we fucking leaving or...shit!"

Her legs are apparently drunker than the rest of her. She stumbles, but grabs the table before she can fall. Max is right there, suddenly, slipping an arm around her waist and propping her up.

"Come on. We'll take it slow, okay?"

Max steers her towards the garden gate. Chloe follows them.

Victoria groans. "I hate all of you. I want you to know that."

Max laughs. "Guess I'm not getting a new locker, then?"

"What are you _talking_ about, Maxine? Uh, Max."

Chloe chimes in, "Yeah, what the fuck?"

"Oh, Victoria tried to bribe me with a new locker in exchange for my friendship."

Chloe bursts out laughing as Victoria's ears begin to burn. "Bullshit! I did not! Did I?"

Max peers up at her, smiling. "You totally did. But you don't need to bribe me. We can be friends if you want, Victoria. Just...stop being an ass."

And there's an excellent chance that Victoria's going to say something shitty in response, but suddenly Chloe's on her other side, bumping her hip and slinging an arm over Victoria's shoulders.

They all stagger, but somehow they don't fall.

"Hey!"

"Jackass!"

"Don't worry, Vicky! We can all be hella best friends forever!"

Chloe sounds sarcastic, but Max giggles, and says, "Maybe that wouldn't be so bad? Victoria likes getting high, and she's said to be a cuddler, too!"

Victoria gasps. "How...who the fuck told you those...those _lies_?"

"Holy shit! Yes, we should all get hella blazed together!"

Victoria's heart is thundering, and she's bright red, and she blurts, "No fucking way! Uh...really?"

Max just laughs, but Chloe gives Victoria a quizzical look which morphs into a wicked grin.

Victoria flushes, and clamps her mouth shut. She vows to never drink again.

That's when she notices that she's wearing Max's cheap, ugly hoodie.

"What...who put this... _thing_ on me?"

Max giggles again, and it's such an infuriatingly pleasing sound.

"You were cold! So...I loaned you my hoodie. _You_ put it on."

Chloe laughs. "Shit, we should take a picture of you two! You know, document your outer layer snaffling ways!"

"Shut up!" Max's tone changes from giggly to concerned. "You're not cold, are you? Do you want your jacket back?

Victoria doesn't like the sound of that, because then she'd take her arm away from Victoria. Abruptly, Victoria realises she's not sure which 'she' she's thinking of.

Both, she supposes. 

Before Victoria can start hyperventilating, Chloe says, "I'll be fine. You okay, Victoria? Not cold?"

And with Max holding her, and Chloe draped over her, she's not cold. Quite the opposite.

Victoria relaxes. She slips an arm around each of them. "I'm okay," she says.

She finds she means it.

They pile into Chloe's truck, with Max in the middle, and even though they aren't really, it feels like they're all going home.

On the drive to Blackwell, Victoria leans her head on Max's shoulder, lets her cheek rest against Chloe's jacket, and tries to stay awake for as long as she can.

Before she drifts off, Victoria feels Max gently take her hand.

Chloe says, "You're such a fucking sap, Max."

But she says it fondly. Proudly, even. Like being a sap is the only thing in the world worth aspiring to be.

"Shh. I think she's asleep."

"You know you're never getting that hoodie back, right?"

Max laughs. "That's okay. It looks good on her. Oh, and did I mention someone really cool gave me this sweet new jacket?"

"Oh, so that's how it is? You're lucky _you_ look cute."

Victoria drifts, until Max switches on the radio. 

She and Chloe sing along to something soft and accoustic. 

Victoria wants to sing, too, but instead she falls asleep, with a smile on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, folks!
> 
> I did not intend to write this, but it's the thing that wanted to get written, so there we go...
> 
> So, announcements!
> 
> As some of you may know, I dabble in Legend of Korra fanfiction. I'm taking part in Korrasami week this month, which means that, starting Sunday, I'm going to be putting up a new LoK fic every day for seven days.
> 
> I mention this mostly for my subs, in particular those of you who are only here for the LiS stuff. I won't be putting up any new LiS stuff until after the 24th, so if you want to unsubscribe for the duration, and avoid 7 email alerts for things you don't want to read, you won't miss anything relevant to your interests. I do hope you'll come back, but thanks for having me in your inbox this long!
> 
> Obviously, if you do want to check out these other stories, I'd be delighted. I'm quite excited for a couple of them! :)
> 
> After this is done, I'll be back to LiS fics for a while, and trying to finish some of my longform ones, and generally be a bit less scattershot.
> 
> Uh...unlike that last sentence.
> 
> In particular, Grit, which is hideously overdue an update, will be getting an update. There will be a new chapter of Grit going live two weeks to this very day, in fact!
> 
> Law of Unintended Consequences fans, I have been derailed, but I'll be getting back on track as soon as I can. There will be a new chapter before the end of the month, in any event. (And hey, if a fantasy novel LiS fic starring Chloe and Kate in a world of absentee Gods, demons, magic, and mayhem against a backdrop of impending civil war sounds fun, why not give it a look?!)
> 
> Arrrrcadia fans...hang in there a bit longer! Sorry...
> 
> There definitely aren't any other overdue ongoing multichapter fics to talk about, so that's okay.
> 
> Oh, I have a tumblr now! It's @postfuguestate if you want to say hello. There's not much there, but I check it every day. And there is a Pricefield short that was part of the Lost and Found series I didn't publish here over there, if you like that sort of thing.
> 
> Thanks again for reading, and thanks especially if you're a subscriber, too!
> 
> And if you're a first time reader, and you read all this, you're excellent, and I'm sorry.
> 
> And, y'know, if you do have questions, or thoughts you want to share, comments are the very stuff of life. So do, please, do so!
> 
> Have a lovely [insert time of day here], everyone!


	2. Chapter 2

Victoria wakes up too early for a Saturday morning.

She opens her eyes, winces at the pale sun leaking through the window, and squeezes them shut again. She has vague memories of being at a party. She has a definite hangover. It's a delightful cocktail of sensations. Her stomach is queasy, her head throbs, and her mouth seems to have acquired a coating of microwaved swamp dirt.

Victoria is too warm, but the room is cold, either because Samuel finally blew up the boiler or, more likely, Max forgot to turn her radiator on. That's just the level of obliviousness that can be expected from Maxine Caulfield.

Victoria's face scrunches up. Her heart starts to pound. She forces her eyes open. On the wall opposite her, someone has hung a display of Polaroid pictures. Tufts of someone's mouse brown hair stick up at improbable angles over the top of the comforter that she's burrowed snugly into.

Victoria is in Maxine Caulfield's room.

Victoria's heart begins to race and adrenaline shoves her aches aside, allowing Victoria to focus on one thought: Max made her sleep on the couch? How fucking rude could she be? Victoria's her guest!

Then Victoria quietly panics and tries to figure out how she's come to be waking up five feet from her sleeping crush.

Bits of memory come back as her synapses boot up.

Getting drunk before the party...drinking more _at_ the party...going for a quiet smoke...seeing Max...

Victoria's eyes widen.

She'd been talking to Max! And she thinks it had been going well. No, _obviously_ it had been going well, until...something happened.

But what?

Victoria frowns.

Something stirs in Max's bed. A pale, long-fingered hand drops on top of the lump where Max's head is tucked under the comforter. Victoria struggles up onto her elbow, spying bright blue hair on Max's pillow from her new vantage.

Victoria lowers herself onto her back, thinking furiously.

More memories surface.

Chloe Price.

Normally, the thought of Chloe evokes a sarcastic, aggressive outsider. Someone she could never quite figure out how to manipulate or intimidate. She could never seem to get under Chloe's skin when they were at school together. After Chloe got expelled, Victoria mostly stopped worrying about her.

Now, though, she's afflicted by a sudden vision of Chloe laughing, eyes gleaming, head tipped back, exposing a long, pale neck. Luckily, before Victoria has to follow that thought down to the butterflies in her stomach, she's distracted by a wave of murderous jealousy.

Because Chloe fucking Price has a habit of getting in Victoria's way.

Rachel Amber would always rather hang out with Chloe than _deign_ to show up at any of Victoria's get togethers. Not that Victoria ever liked Rachel, but she was the most popular person in school. Her presence or absence at a party could define the event. But Rachel was so busy running around with Chloe she never even got back to Victoria about her Sweet Sixteen! Even though the invitation _clearly_ said RSVP! In fucking gold leaf!

Rachel graduated this year. And Victoria was looking forward to having a year where she could be out from under her shadow. She was looking forward to being recognised as Blackwell's brightest star at last.

And then Max Caulfield transferred in.

The first time Victoria saw her, in Photography class, she got a weird feeling in her stomach. Max was just a skinny girl in cheap skinny jeans with bad hair and worse posture, but...there had been something about her.

The first time she saw Max's work, Victoria had struggled to breathe properly for several minutes, because Max is, by a considerable margin, the most talented student photographer Blackwell's ever fucking had.

She's nothing like Rachel, though. Max isn't popular. She's so...clueless about social hierarchies, and lacking in any sense of style, and she hangs out with all the wrong people, and she...doesn't seem to give a single fuck about any of it. She just bumbles along in her own hipster dream world, happily oblivious to the things that really matter.

Including, as but a single example, Victoria Chase.

It's infuriating! Victoria could do so much for Max, if she'd just voluntarily acknowledge Victoria's fucking existence!

Which...she did last night.

But just when Max was actually talking to Victoria, and they were...probably getting along, Chloe swoops in and ruins everything. _Again_!

Abruptly, another memory intrudes: one of Chloe throwing her arm around Victoria's shoulders. And Victoria slipping an arm around Chloe's waist. 

_And_ Max's. 

They left early last night, but Victoria wasn't angry. She was...happy.

Victoria's heart pounds harder. She croaks, "Oh, God..."

She was so happy she...pretended she didn't have her room key when Max and Chloe helped her back to the dorms.

Victoria groans and fights the urge to go fetal. What the fuck was she thinking? How could she let herself end up here? Although, it does suggest that things went _really_ well with Max. Unless...unless Max was taking pity on her.

Victoria's stomach clenches. For a terrifying moment, she thinks she's going to throw up. She fights down the nausea, and focuses on breathing as she tries to get her thoughts under control. She is Victoria Chase. She is the queen of Blackwell. She is not someone who loses her shit over tragic wallflowers like Max Caulfield. She does not slum it with scuzzy dropouts like Chloe Price 

What she does is crush every thought that she shouldn't have into a dark corner of her mind. She leaves them there, until it gets unbearable, and then she watches for an opportunity to air them with a sarcastic quip or a cutting insult. Victoria anticipates ulcers and worn molars in her otherwise bright, glowing future.

Right now, though, she should get out of Max's room. She needs to make sure that no one ever finds out she was here. Victoria's dorm key is lodged in the pocket of her jeans. She struggles out from under her blanket and swings her legs onto the floor. She finds she's fully dressed, apart from her shoes. She's wearing a disgusting hoodie, too.

Max's hoodie. 

Victoria bites her lip.

She looks for her shoes and finds them at the head of the couch. There's a bottle of water next to her shoes. Victoria glares at it for a few seconds before grabbing it and drinking greedily. There's a strip of aspirin on the floor, too. She swallows two of them.

The swell of gratitude she feels towards Max makes her head throb with fury.

She hunts for her phone, which she finds on a table at the foot of the couch. She has a dozen messages from Taylor, a virtual crime board charting the death of her sobriety.

She has only one message from Courtney: _ur leavin with max?!?! Caulfield?!_

Victoria groans and rubs her face. She's surprised to discover that last night's makeup has been removed. She has no memory of that at all. It's...nice, though. That one of them did that. She wonders which of them did.

Victoria slowly finishes the bottle of water while berating herself for not just leaving. She's never been in Max's room before. She's occasionally caught glimpses inside, since her room is opposite Max's, but she hasn't seen much of it. Victoria looks around now, noting Max's guitar, her books, anything that might serve as possible conversation topics. Just in case Victoria's still here when Max wakes up.

The room's cluttered, and almost everything in it is just a little shabby. But the overall effect is...passable. Victoria wants very badly to look through Max's things. Victoria shakes her head angrily.

"Get _out_ , stupid," she hisses to herself.

She doesn't move, except to sip water. Her gaze turns hungrily to Max's display of photos. She's only seen the photographs Max has shown in class before. Looking over dozens of them like this, it's all the more obvious that Max is seriously fucking talented. She has a great eye. And even if her subjects aren't always to Victoria's taste, there's no denying the quality of the shots.

Since Max has a penchant for taking selfies, there's no denying that Victoria finds at least one of Max's subjects very much to her taste.

Even if she can't quite admit that out loud.

Except she did last night, didn't she?

Victoria's fingers tighten around the empty bottle, crumpling it.

Abruptly, it all comes back.

She admitted her crush on Max to Chloe.

Chloe, who, it turns out, is Max's childhood best friend.

Chloe, who admitted her own crush on Max.

Chloe, who is sharing a bed with Max.

Victoria quickly gets up. She drops the bottle on the couch, grabs her phone and her shoes, and rushes for the door. She pauses for a second, before she opens it, instinct making her glance down at the bed.

A pair of concerned blue eyes are watching her.

Chloe whispers, "Hey. You okay?"

Victoria flinches and almost drops her shoes. "I...I need to go," she whispers back, praying she doesn't wake Max.

Of course, she's an atheist, so the part of her that's hoping Max _will_ wake up is the more honest part.

Chloe yawns. "You find your key?"

Victoria flushes. "I...fuck, Taylor's awake. She messaged me. Okay?"

She isn't sure why she lies. Except...Victoria always knows exactly why she lies. She's been more convincing, though.

Chloe snorts. "Right. Whatever you say. See ya, Vicky."

She almost sounds disappointed for some reason.

Victoria glares at her, but that's all she has the energy for. She eases the door open as quietly as she can, relieved to find that it isn't locked.

She's almost out when Max sputters, thrashes, and abruptly sits up, gasping "Captain!"

Victoria is confused, but Chloe gets this weird little smile on her face.

"It's cool, Max. I gave him the night off. Remember?"

Max looks around groggily. She focuses on Chloe first, her expression shifting from befuddled to happily befuddled. Victoria hates how easily Chloe can make Max smile.

Chloe grins at Max. "Morning! You have _epic_ bedhead. And don't you have the cutest snore?"

Max blinks. "Do not," she says weakly. She pats vaguely at her head.

Of course, Max _would_ have a cute snore, and Victoria _would_ miss her only chance to ever hear it. Victoria grinds her teeth and takes a step into the corridor.

Max says, yawning, "'toria? You leaving?"

Max looks right up at her, and _fuck_. 

Her hair is the sort of messy that David Lynch would build a movie around, her eyes are half-closed, puffy and so fucking blue, her face is...structurally immaculate. And those _fucking_ freckles!

Max shouldn't be so cute. But she is. She's...beautiful.

Not that Victoria would ever admit it.

Victoria blinks. She _did_ though. She told Max how beautiful her face is! Right to Max's actual _face_!

Victoria turns a nascent whimper into a patently fake cough. "Ahem. Yeah. Thanks for...last night. I guess."

Max aims a sweet, lopsided smile at Victoria that gets her heart pounding and her stomach lurching. Not just lurching, but gurgling.

Loudly.

Victoria turns even redder, and thinks about bolting across the hall.

Max rubs her eyes and says, "Wanna get breakfast? After we shower and stuff?"

Chloe frowns. It seems more contemplative than angry, though.

Victoria's throat dries out again. "Breakfast? With _you_?"

Chloe rolls her eyes. "Right! You'd _hate_ hanging out with...us. Might give you street cred, or something."

Max laughs and glances at Chloe. "Uh, we don't have that, either."

" _You_ don't. Shit's changed since you left. It's cool, though. I'll let you borrow some of mine." She frowns thoughtfully at Victoria. "Look...fuck it. You in or out, Vicky?"

Victoria narrows her eyes. "Don't call me that!" She hopes that they'll put the tension in her voice down to outrage.

Max stretches. She drops a hand on Chloe's head and ruffles her hair. Chloe squawks in protest and ducks under the covers.

Max grins. "It's okay. Chloe has a thing for nicknames, that's all."

Victoria huffs and folds her arms and tries not to smile back. Ehat would be the point? She still doesn't remember everything from the night before, but she remembers enough. Enough to know that she needs to shut this shit down, go no further down this road.

Nothing good can come of it.

Max is too...comfortable around Chloe. And Chloe is too into Max. What can Victoria get out of this? Where could she fit into their dynamic? How would it be read in Blackwell society? Victoria's pretty sure she could sell Max, but what the fuck is she supposed to do about Chloe?

And...what the fuck is she even _thinking_?

So Victoria starts to shake her head. Before she can finish the gesture, she blurts, "I'm in. I'll come by when I'm dressed?"

Max nods, smiling. "Cool! Give us, maybe...half an hour?"

She glances at Chloe, who emerges warily from under the comforter and shrugs.

Victoria lingers, uncertain, until Chloe launches a retaliatory tickle attack on Max, who is swiftly reduced to a shrieking, giggling mess. Victoria barely manages to fight down the impulse to slam the door behind her.

Once Victoria's out in the corridor, she tells herself that it's too late to go back. She'll just have to go for breakfast with them. She said she would, after all.

She crosses the hall and unlocks her door, slips into her room and collapses face first on her bed.

She realises she's still wearing Max's hoodie. She gets up, strips it off, and hesitates. Other people might be getting up soon. Victoria doesn't want anyone seeing her with Max's hoodie. She supposes she'll have to hold onto it. Just for a little while.

She folds it up and stuffs into the bottom of one of her drawers.

Maybe it's the aspirin, or just being back in her own space, but after a minute Victoria starts to feel better. She needs a shower, though. She'd love to luxuriate under near scalding water, but...half an hour isn't long.

Victoria only really has one approach when she wants something, and that's to go all out.

Victoria showers in just under ten minutes.

She spends the rest of the time putting together a look. As she holds a skirt against her body and considers herself in the mirror Victoria catches her eye.

She glares at herself and admits, in a whisper, "I want this."

Even if she isn't sure what _this_ is yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I'm as angry as you are that I'm continuing this. Particularly since it will be in a no doubt infrequent and haphazard manner.
> 
> Tell me of your anger and sense of betrayal in the comments!


	3. Chapter 3

Right after Victoria slams the door on them, Max tries to wriggle away from Chloe's tickle attack only to fall out of bed with a thud.

Chloe pulls herself to the edge of the mattress and peers over. Max, still giggling, looks up at her from where she's sprawled on her back.

"Shit! You okay, Max?"

"Y-yeah. I think so. Jerk!" Max sits up, flushed and grinning and too close.

Max's face, which was for so long a composite of memory and conjecture, is right there. Close enough to count her freckles. Her _lips_ are mere inches and impossibilities away.

Chloe's stomach tightens. She abruptly reaches the conclusion that sleepovers and tickle fights, staples of their tween years, are _wrong_ now. It's not an issue of emotional maturity, something Chloe likes to think she's avoided cultivating, but of...emotional clarity, maybe?

As in, Chloe having a bad night's sleep last night has nothing to do with having to share a single bed with someone and everything to do with every cell in her body constantly reminding Chloe that she's so close to _Max_.

Max's grin softens into a nervous smile. "You're staring. Is my bedhead really that bad?"

Chloe quickly pushes herself upright. She backs away from Max until she's up against Max's photo wall. Her voice is steady enough when she says, "You should take a selfie! Trust me, it deserves to be immortalised!"

Max snorts. "Gee, thanks."

But she's still smiling as she picks herself up and grabs her camera off of her desk.

Chloe pulls the comforter up under her nose and watches Max flip her camera open, and pace around the room, probably looking for the best light or angle or event horizon or whatever.

It's kind of a thrill, watching Max go to work. There's something...assured about Max that only comes out when she's holding a camera. Chloe wishes she saw it more often. Confidence is a good look on her.

Chloe smiles, thinking back to the way Max fussed over Victoria last night. Considering that Victoria Chase is the Beast of Revelations, albeit wrapped in Prada and wafting Shalini, it was kinda cute watching Max take care of her.

Maybe that's why Chloe had felt compelled to help, removing Victoria's makeup like she used to do for Rachel after she partied a little too hard at some Vortex Club douche-fest.

Or maybe it's because Chloe and Victoria have at least one thing in common after all.

Which will make breakfast...interesting. Chloe's not entirely thrilled that she's going to be hanging out with a sober Victoria. But...she wasn't _so_ bad, last night. Chloe supposes that time must have mellowed at least one of them out.

Chloe frowns. Maybe it's not time, maybe it's just...

Max abruptly launches herself onto the bed beside Chloe and scrambles upright next to her.

Max yanks the comforter away from Chloe's mouth, drops her head on Chloe's shoulder, and raises the camera.

Chloe laughs, in spite of feeling stretched thin by her leaping heart and her dropping stomach. Her mouth says, "Say 'Chase'."

Max giggles, and the flash ignites.

Chloe rubs her eyes while Max sits up and cradles her new photo, eagerly watching it develop.

Carefully not looking at Chloe, she says, "So...is it weird that we're having breakfast with her? Sorry for springing that on you, but I...after last night, she said she wanted to be friends, so..."

Chloe leans over Max's shoulder and watches the chemicals work their magic on her. It's not her preferred approach to chemistry, but it has an undeniable appeal in the moment.

She takes too long answering. Max leans into her side and rests her head on Chloe's shoulder again. "Are you okay?"

She sounds nervous, or maybe apprehensive, concerned that Mount Price is about to blow again.

So Chloe blurts, "Yeah! Just waking up still. Uh...it's kinda weird. I guess. But...fuck it. If she starts shit at Two Whales, Joyce can help us dispose of the body." 

Max snorts, but she relaxes against Chloe, _into_ Chloe. She knows she should just enjoy the moment, this rediscovered feeling of Max's warm weight anchoring her. But Chloe can't help but ask, "Are...we okay?"

Max hesitates. Softly she says, "Is that up to me?"

Chloe sighs, her breath stirring a few of the loose hairs on Max's head. And Chloe thinks that now's the time for some good, solid half-truths and diversions. "It's up to both of us? I...want us to be. Even if you are adopting Victoria Chase."

Max lets out an indistinct sound. She pauses, takes in a little breath, and holds it. She lets it out a second later, but she keeps whatever she was going to say tucked inside her. "It's not adoption. More like...probation? I know she's...kinda mean-"

" _Kinda_? She used to spread rumours about Rachel all the time. Some fucked-up shit, too!" Max stiffens. Chloe winces, but pushes on. "And that's not to mention how she treats you. And your friend, Kate!"

Max sits up, pulling away from Chloe. "That's why I want to _try_ to make friends. It'd be nice if Victoria was...nicer for the rest of the year."

"And that's all it is?" Chloe asks, trying to keep the sense of loss she feels when Max moves away out of her voice.

Max looks genuinely puzzled. "What else would it be?"

Chloe sighs, suddenly aware of how tense she is. "Oh, Max..." Chloe reaches out and ruffles Max's hair. Max endures it with a look of resignation belied by the barest hint of a smile on her lips. "You are too pure for this vale of torment and...other junk. And I'm too hungry for fancy...word...things. So. Yeah..."

Max laughs, bats Chloe's still ruffling hand away and flourishes her newly developed photo. "Look! I think it should go on the wall. If it passes the Price Approval Process..."

Chloe's chest tightens, her ribs pushing back against her heart, against the memories of years ago. "You remember that?"

There's no disguising the tightness in her voice this time.

Max nods, expression sobering. "Of course I do," she says, softly. "Here."

She passes Chloe the photo, leaning forward so her shoulder touches Chloe's.

They're grinning like idiots in the picture, both dishevelled and obviously recently awakened and looking so fucking pleased with themselves. Chloe isn't sure she wants this on Max's wall, but only because she wants it for herself.

Chloe smiles at Max and mimes bringing a rubber stamp down on the Polaroid. "Approved."

Max laughs, wiping imaginary sweat from her brow. "Thanks, Chloe."

They stare at each other for a second, until Max ducks her head and gently removes the photo from Chloe's loose grip.

There's a moment where their fingertips touch and it would be so easy to slide their fingers together, to take Max's hand. Chloe thinks that if she could do that, she could maybe find the courage to slide her other hand through Max's hair, cross the last few inches between them, and kiss her like she's wanted to since Max got back.

Like she's wanted to since before Max left, Chloe admits to herself, and it becomes too big, too complex, and it's easier to let the moment slide away.

Max gets busy making the necessary adjustments to her wall display.

Chloe sighs. "Guess you'd better get showered, Max."

Max looks at her. "Uh...yeah. What about you?"

Chloe shrugs. "I hate showering and putting on dirty clothes. You'll just need to try to resist the potent allure of my natural musk."

Max gags ostentatiously. "Well, maybe you could try borrowing some clothes?"

"Aww, that's sweet! That you think I'm anything other than too normal-sized for your munchkin garments, Max."

Max finishes hanging the picture and flops back onto the bed. "Nuh-uh! You're weird and tall and so mean to me and it hurts."

"The truth will do that, Max."

Max sits up, suddenly grinning. "Hey! Maybe you could borrow something from Victoria!"

Chloe snorts. "Ha! Can you imagine if we swapped wardrobes?"

Max's face slowly turns red. "Uh...n-nope! Can't picture that at all! Oh! I'd better get moving. Don't read my journal while I'm gone. Okay, bye!"

Before Chloe can quite figure out what to make of _that_ , Max scrambles off the bed, grabs her shower stuff and an armful of clothes, and flees.

* * *

Max is able to calm down under the warm shower water.

She isn't able to figure out exactly _why_ the image of Chloe in cashmere and a mini skirt and Victoria wearing shredded jeans, a beanie, and a vest set her heart racing and her feet promptly following.

But the image that flashed into her mind -- in high definition -- made it impossible to stay close to Chloe in her sleep shirt and shorts.

Luckily it's still early enough on a Saturday that Max didn't see anyone on her sprint down the hall. Better yet, she somehow avoided Victoria.

Max isn't sure she's ready to face her without backup.

By the time Max has finished her shower, she's beginning the first gentle turn into a panic spiral as it catches up with her that she invited _Victoria Chase_ to breakfast.

She's saved, or rather diverted, by the arrival of Dana Ward.

Dana is wearing a long t-shirt, flip-flops, and a cheerful expression entirely at odds without how much she drank last night.

Max says, "Good morning!"

She tries to slip past Dana, who has a dangerous glint in her eye.

Dana casually interposes herself between Max and the door. "Maaax! Well, well, well! You were looking very cosy with Victoria last night..."

"I was? I mean, I wasn't! I was terrified! She-"

"Threatened to eat you all up, did she?" Dana's grin is smugger than Robert Downey Jr in...films.

Max turns redder, chokes, drops her shampoo, trips over her towel picking the shampoo up, and drops everything else while trying to recover her balance.

Dana's kind enough not to laugh. She quickly scoops up Max's things and passes them back to her. "So...that was a reaction. Now Max, you know who you can always talk to-"

Max's blush heats up by a few degrees in pre-emptive embarrassment. "Dana, please don't say-"

"Your bisexual godmother! And _who_ is your bisexual godmother?"

Max squirms. "I don't think that's...a real thing?"

"Godchild. How could you," Dana says, utterly unfazed. "Now, who...?" Dana cups a hand behind her ear.

Max slumps. "You, Dana Ward, are my...bisexual godmother. But...there really isn't anything to tell..."

Max bites her lip, scrunches up her nose, shuffles her feet, and generally fails to convince either of them that she's being honest.

Dana beams at her. "Now...look, Max, _did_ something happen last night? It stays between us. Promise."

Max quickly shakes her head. "Nothing major _really_ happened, no! Victoria was drunk, so Chloe and I took her back to my room. That's all!"

Max doesn't mention how clingy Victoria was, or the way she smiled at Max when Max tucked her in. Because Victoria _was_ drunk. Those things don't mean anything.

"Uh... _your_ room?"

Max winces. She laughs, nervously. "Oh, no! I mean, it's not that we...! Victoria just couldn't find her key, so it seemed easier to...look we all just fell asleep! I guess Chloe and I talked for a while in bed, but...uh, no! You see Chloe and I used to do sleepovers all the time, so-"

"Max." Dana holds up her hand. "Let me see if I understand this. So...Chloe _Price_ \-- who I seem to recall came to the party looking for _you_ and was ready to tear down anything that got in her way -- and Victoria _Chase_ , who, just fyi, loathes Chloe, and who also, just fyi, is kinda...obsessed with you...so! _Those_ two coexisted peacefully in your bedroom last night?"

"Uh...yeah? Victoria slept through most of it? Heh, she did whine pretty hard while Chloe was scrubbing off her makeup, though!"

"Chloe did what now?"

"She was being nice! That's all!"

Dana gapes at her. "Chloe being nice to Victoria? That's...interesting." Dana shakes her head. "Well, that's an image! I suppose you were all in one big cuddle pile, too," Dana muses.

Max gasps. "W-what? No! Victoria was on the couch!"

"Ah, so you and Chloe were the only ones cuddling? The plot thickens!"

Max shakes her head frantically. " _No_! There was no..." Max hesitates, thinking back. "Um...it's a single, so maybe there was some accidental cuddling-like behaviour?"

"Aha!"

"I-it was entirely collateral cuddling! Chloe and I...i-it's not like that with us! It's...not."

Dana's grin fades. "Ah. But you maybe want...shit. Sorry, Max. Did I push things too far?"

Max groans. "I...I don't know anything about this stuff, Dana! I don't _think_ there's anything going on with Victoria. But last night, I think Chloe and I...I think we're fixing our friendship? For real, now."

"Well, that's...good, Max! And, hey, you know I just want to see you with someone because you're so cute, right? It's an actual crime under Oregon statutes that you're single!"

Max chuckles weakly. "Thanks, Dana. But...I think I need some time to adjust to being back in Arcadia Bay before I think about... _dating_."

Dana sighs. "You've been here for months! Two of them! And, look...even if things with Chloe aren't...uh, what I'm saying is, I think Victoria likes you, Max. She got pretty aggressive when I interrupted last night and-"

"You didn't interrupt anything except her insulting me! And, uh, okay, she did say...but she was drunk..."

Dana leans in, eyes dancing. "No, no! Don't dismiss this! What did she say?"

Max shakes her head. Her heart is pounding, she's confused, and she's worried about leaving Chloe without supervision for too long. "Nah, it's silly! And...uh, I should really get going. I don't want to be late."

"Oh?" Dana reluctantly moves away from the door. "Saturday morning plans?"

"Yeah. Breakfast with Chloe and Victoria."

Max has the door almost halfway open when Dana's hand drops on Max's shoulder and she's tugged back into the shower room.

Dana raises her eyebrows. "Uh, Max? Chloe and Victoria are _volunteering_ to hang out with each other just so they can be with you? I think you're withholding things from your bisexual godmother. Which is against the bi-laws."

Max blinks. "Oh, come on! Don't be ridiculous! It's not like they hate each other that much! It's not like they'd...for...me? Uh...is it?"

"Max. If I'm going to even have a chance of understanding that question, let alone answering it, I need context! I need every single _detail_! I need to hear about sighs, lingering looks, not so accidental touches, drunken confessions, warm fuzzy feelings, and _especially_ whether or not Victoria snores! Because that's totally relevant to your situation!"

So Max lets herself gets dragged to Dana's room where she tells Dana as much as she dares. Max is reluctant at first, but there's a sense of relief at being able to share with someone else how weird Victoria was being, and how sweet Chloe was being.

Dana listens, eyes growing wider and grin broadening, asking the occasional urgent question.

When Max is finished recounting the events at the party, she asks, "So...what do you think of it all?"

"I think..I think my little Max isn't going to be single much longer!" Dana squeals happily, her eyes infused with the manic pep of a veteran cheerleader embarking on her last formation. "Oh, godchild! I think it's makeover time! This is so exciting!"

Max swallows nervously. "Makeover? I...why?"

"Because you're going on a breakfast date, of course!"

Max gapes at Dana.

Dana just grins and drags Max in front of her mirror. "You want to know for sure if one or even both of these girls are interested in you, right?"

"I really don't think-"

"Good! Because this is no time for thinking!" Dana grabs an armload of beauty products from the top of her dresser and bears down on Max with fire in her eyes. "It's time to get _peacocking_."

Max tells herself she doesn't have much choice but to submit to Dana's brushes and pencils.

But it's hard to ignore the way her heart pounds at the thought that Dana might be right about the...date thing.

And it's impossible to pretend, even to herself, that for all the terror she's feeling, Max isn't excited, too.

There's just one question that Max needs to answer. "Um, Dana...?"

Dana, concentrating fiercely on applying eyeliner, says, "Uh huh?"

"So...what _is_ peacocking?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a short update as I was feeling this fic but I need to feel my way back into how to write it, but, uh, hey! This fic isn't dead!

Chloe is sitting on Max's bed, leafing through Max's journal, when someone raps their knuckles against Max's door. Given their plans for the morning--and the fact that the knock is loud, sharp, and annoying--Chloe deduces that it's Victoria.

"Don't come in!" Chloe calls cheerfully, while pausing to inspect a passage in the journal that catches her eye. "You had a dream about me last week? Why, Max! How scandalous!"

From behind the door, Victoria begins to huff and puff. "Why the fuck can't I come in? What...what are you doing in there?"

"Nothin' much. I just don't want you in here."

"Fuck you, Chloe! I..." Victoria pauses for a second, and Chloe glances up, bemused. "The door isn't even locked, is it?"

"Are you actually asking?" Chloe returns her attention to Max's journal. "You do know how to work a door handle, right?"

"God, you're such a...why am I still talking to the...? Ugh!" Victoria barges into the room at last, slamming the door behind her. "Do you need to be such a bitch? I thought we were...starting over, or whatever."

"Look, Victoria, this isn't about..." Chloe looks up from Max's journal. She blinks. "About...us..."

Victoria has her hands on her hips and is glaring down at Chloe. She's scowling like a head cheer leader ready to break the knees of a member of her squad who hasn't met this month's pep quota. But that isn't what makes Chloe's train of thought run out of steam.

Half an hour ago, Victoria was rumpled, hungover, and wretched enough that Chloe could extend her a small amount of pity. But now, while her eyes remain bloodshot, Victoria has rebuilt her social armour. She's exchanged last night's earth tones for a pink sweater over a white button down, a black floral print skirt, black tights, and a pair of heels. She's wearing pearls around her throat, gold on her wrists, and she's clutching a tiny handbag bearing a logo that tells Chloe it's worth more than Chloe's truck. Victoria's lips are painted a bold but inviting red, the kind of colour ancient Greek poets would call wine-dark, the kind of colour that says these are lips someone could get drunk on.

One thing about Chloe's ex, Rachel Amber, was that she could throw on just about anything and within a few seconds she'd find a way to make it look not just good, but make it look like a _look_. Part of her gift was appearing approachable, too. Rachel would've coaxed Max out of her shell rather than trying to overwhelm her. Victoria doesn't have whatever Rachel has. But she does know how to meticulously construct an outfit, accessorise it and use makeup to take full advantage of her already irritatingly attractive form.

The thing is, though, that Chloe thinks Max will only see in all of Victoria's effort the equivalent of a 'Do Not Touch' sign. Or maybe Chloe simply hopes that Max will, because Victoria looks--and smells--really _good_. Not 'it's early, but fuck you, I'm Victoria Chase' good, full on 'came directly from the catwalk, and, incidentally, _fuck you_ , I'm _Victoria fucking Chase_ ' good.

For a moment, Chloe wonders what it would be like to see Victoria when she wasn't so focused on artfully framing herself for the world around her. Not drunk and unravelling like she was last night, but just...relaxed. It's a weird thought, and it makes Chloe uncomfortable at how comfortably it fits into her head. It's an idea that has attached to it the notion that Victoria's going to be around long enough for Chloe to maybe get to see if Victoria actually _has_ any other sides to her. And that idea confronts Chloe with the disturbing realisation that she's on some level accepted that Victoria could end up spending quite a bit of time with Chloe...and with Max.

Chloe's chest tightens and her knuckles whiten around Max's journal. Because, sure, Max had a dream about Chloe, but there are a fuckload of entries about Victoria in Max's journal, too. Even if most of those entries are about how mean Victoria is...Victoria has been on Max's mind a _lot_. And now here Victoria is, wrapped up in designer labels and wearing a fresh coat of paint, and it suddenly doesn't seem altogether ridiculous that she and Chloe could be rivals for Max's attention. It doesn't seem ridiculous that Chloe could _lose_ Max's attention.

Chloe knows that 'attention' isn't the right word, but trying to pinpoint the exact right word feels all kinds of wrong with Victoria being so...annoyingly fucking gorgeous in Chloe's direction at the moment. She wonders how Max is going to react to this. Then Chloe wonders if it's too late to reconsider her position on not showering before breakfast.

Victoria finally loses patience at all the silence piling up around them like crashing police cars in a bad action comedy. "Well? What is it about, then? Other than you still being a massive asshole?"

"Uh..." Chloe blinks, trying to remember what they were talking about while fighting the vertigo induced by the change of perspective the last few seconds have afforded her. She looks down, and remembers that she's clutching Max's journal. She quickly snaps it shut. "It's...about Max. Right?"

"Oh." Victoria shifts her weight, causing Chloe to look up again. Victoria sighs, her scowl melting away as slowly as icicles after a cold snap. "Well...yes. I suppose it...but if we're...you and I should maybe..." Abruptly she grits her teeth. "Fucking say _something_ , bitch!"

"Okay. Uh, stop calling me bitch?"

"I..." Victoria opens her mouth, hesitates, and closes it again. She looks at Max's photo wall, pouting. "Whatever. I...this is too fucking weird. I'm gone."

Before Victoria's finished her first step in the direction of the door, Chloe snaps, "Oh, bullshit! Look, yeah, it _is_ fucking weird that we're even hanging out at all, but...fuck it, it's just breakfast. You're hungover, I'm never up this early...we won't even have the energy to kill each other until after we've eaten, right?"

"What? Do you actually _want_ me to..." Victoria turns back to face her, her immaculately plucked eyebrows raised. "What the fuck is _with_ you?"

Judging by the look on Victoria's face, she's almost as confused as Chloe is that Chloe is once again pushing for Victoria to stick around. The only reason that Chloe would care to admit to is that she's doing this for Max's sake. Max making peace with Victoria _would_ make the rest of Max's school year easier.

Outweighing that benefit is the growing worry of how invested Victoria is in pursuing Max. But rather than shut Victoria down, Chloe's been helping her because...because Chloe's been feeling a nagging sense of curiosity since Victoria pitched back into her life last night and wasn't a complete asswipe. It is, admittedly, a sense of curiosity so morbid that it would happily dig up graves in full view of a funeral procession, but it's as undeniable as it is gross. Chloe...kinda wants to see more of the Victoria she glimpsed last night. The one who made Chloe laugh and shut Chloe's self-pitying bullshit down before Chloe could fuck up with Max yet again.

"Nothing's with me." Chloe dumps Max's journal on her night stand and hops off the bed, getting right into Victoria's space. Her lack of boots and Victoria's heels gives Vicky a height advantage of a couple of inches, and that's fucking _weird_ too, but Chloe plays it off with a shrug. "I mean, you're stuck with me for maybe an hour this morning, right? Suck it up, Chase."

Victoria's body tenses up again and she quickly retreats, making for the relative safety of Max's desk. "Are you fucking with me?"

"No, I'm not fucking with you! I'm trying to..." Chloe trails off, hunting for the right words and finding them as elusive as Max's self-confidence usually is. 

"You think I don't realise that you and Max are a fucking package deal, Chloe?" Victoria grinds her teeth. "You're fucking...grafted onto her! If the two of us can't get along, how am I supposed to..."

And now it's Victoria's turn to trail off and leave them in one of the most awkward moments of Chloe's life. And Chloe is best friends with _Max_ , a girl who, at age eleven, hid under a table in a diner because a waitress asked Max if she knew what she wanted to eat.

"Well...who says we can't get along?" When Victoria's jaw drops, Chloe chuckles. "I mean, sure, other than our every prior interaction and the baseline hatred we feel for each other! But if you put _that_ aside, we're both...uh, I dunno, we're both...kinda tall? That's, uh, something we have in common, right?"

"You want us to...bond over our _height_?" Victoria's lips work silently for a second. "That's...actually, that's much lamer than I expected, even from you."

Chloe narrows her eyes. "Do you want me to keep making an effort here or what?"

"I..." Victoria hesitates. Softly she says, "I don't understand _why_ you're making an effort for...me. What are you getting out of this?"

Chloe rolls her eyes. "Jesus, who says I need to...not everything's about you, Vicky. 'kay? Fuck, I need a cigarette."

"Fine," Victoria snaps. She folds her arms and half turns away. "Go have one, then. I'll wait for Max."

Chloe frowns. "Uh...nope! Not sure I trust you not to go through Max's shit if I leave you alone in here."

Victoria bristles. "What the fuck? I thought you wanted us to be...whatever you want us to be! And then you...I don't _get_ you!"

"Shocker."

"Fuck you, Chloe! You were the one reading Max's fucking diary when I came in!"

Chloe blinks, dismayed for several reasons that Victoria can identify Max's journal on sight. "Uh..."

"Creeper." Victoria huffs out a breath and shakes her head. "Now _I_ need a fucking smoke. Fine, I'll go and you can wait for Max. Assuming she didn't fall and break her neck in the shower. Where the fuck is she?"

"Dunno." Chloe rubs the back of her neck. After a couple of seconds of nothing but tension that seems to palpably thicken around them, Chloe adds, "Though, uh, it's not totally impossible that she _did_ fall. She's kinda--"

"Clumsy? Like a little baby deer? With...three legs and a visual impairment?" Victoria snorts, but her expression softens and her shoulders ease down. "I've noticed."

And maybe it should bug Chloe that Victoria's noticed quite as much as she has about Max, but...the girl has a point. Chloe can't help the smile that flits across her lips. "Heh. She is a cute kind of helpless, isn't she? I mean, we can both agree on that, right?"

And maybe Chloe's imagining things, but it seems like Victoria Chase blushes. "I...yeah. We can agree on...on how cute Max is."

"Is it weird if we bond over _that_?" Chloe considers what she just said for a nanosecond. "Yeeeeah, it is, huh?"

To Chloe's surprise, Victoria's blush deepens. "Ah...I don't...yeah, it's weird. I suppose. Since we both..." Victoria's voice lowers to a whisper. "...like her?"

"Y'know, given that you do, I have to ask..."

Victoria raises an eyebrow.

"...why do you give Max so much shit, you stupid asshole?"

It comes out soft, for the all that Chloe's choice of words possibly aren't _quite_ as kind as they could be. Maybe that's why Victoria doesn't immediately lash out, even though her lips tighten and her jaw flexes like an MMA fighter at a weigh-in. Victoria takes her time coming up with an answer, and in this case, she takes too long.

The door creaks slowly open behind Chloe, who turns to see that someone is coming into Max's room. A girl. A really pretty girl, with smooth, shiny brown hair, deep cobalt blue eyes that almost seem to shimmer in contrast to the smoky purple eyeshadow and long, mascara-enhanced eyelashes she's sporting. The girl is also, Chloe's brain at last notes:

Maxine Caulfield.

Chloe's jaw drops.

Max hides herself behind the only partly open door. Her glossy, berry-coloured lips work themselves into a shy smile. "Hey, guys! Sorry I kept you. I, uh, ran into Dana and she...well, uh, should we go? Get breakfast? Together? All...three of us?"

"Uh, sure," Chloe mumbles dazedly, unable to take her eyes off of Max. "You're ready, right, Vic?"

"Right," Victoria says, her voice sounding odd to Chloe's ears. "We should...do things...together..."

When they all finally shuffle out into the corridor, and they make their way out of the dorms in an awkward procession, darting nervous glances at each other, Max and Victoria making doomed attempts at small talk too feeble to chip away the brittle atmosphere that surrounds them, Chloe keeps coming back to the same thought. 

Even though it feels like the tectonic plates of Chloe's mind have just violently shifted, and she is in no way equipped to understand how profoundly her interior landscape has been and will be affected, Chloe knows this much: she's _seriously_ regretting the no shower thing now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Um. I'm not done writing LiS stuff and I do intend to finish things, including this thing! Just don't ask me when. Well, don't expect me to be able to _answer_ that question at any rate! It likely won't be ten months before I get the next bit out, though...
> 
> Doooo let me know your thoughts, if you feel so inclined!


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